


a little bit higher

by nclgbt



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-09 05:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19882057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nclgbt/pseuds/nclgbt
Summary: Renjun used to think that summer would never end.





	a little bit higher

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: It’s finally the summer before 7th year and Renjun’s invited his best friends, Jeno and Jaemin, to spend a couple weeks at his house. The problem is, both of them are totally, completely, hopelessly purebloods who can’t tell the difference between a cell phone and a calculator. (Also, Renjun might be crushing on the two of them. Simultaneously. That’s a pretty big problem too.)
> 
> dear prompter, i can only hope i did your idea justice!!! it was so much fun to finally write a hp au and to throw in a couple of muggle references here and there

Renjun used to think that summer would never end.

At eleven, it was just a sticky three-month sprawl of weekly piano lessons and getting his cheeks pinched by relatives he barely remembered meeting. It was chasing after Sicheng and getting all sweaty and gross from rolling in the grass, in the garden instead of the park just in case Renjun made all the dogs levitate again.

Even after getting his letter from Hogwarts, nothing really changed. Being back home for the holidays just meant a few more owl sightings in Renjun’s village.

If asked, Renjun would swear up and down that he never intentionally kept his best friends away from his house. It was just that he found stocking up on Extendable Ears and playing with Pygmy Puffs in Diagon Alley with his friends to be a much more exciting summer activity than walking in on Sicheng and Yuta being downright inappropriate all over the sofa for the third time that week.

It was the end of Sixth Year when Jeno _did_ ask, pout on his face and eyebrows furrowed in an expression that Renjun thought ought to be patented, really. In the balmy, post-exam haze of June, Renjun had half expected it to be Jaemin who would try to corner him about letting them visit during the summer. Very few secrets stayed secret in the Slytherin boys’ dorm room, not least because Donghyuck and Jaemin were very loud sleeptalkers, and Jaemin had been stress-muttering about riding the tube for weeks.

“Don’t say no,” Jeno said, wriggling towards Renjun on his elbows, tie looped around his head in a way that should have looked stupid but, like everything Lee Jeno did, just ended up being stupidly attractive.

“You haven’t asked me anything yet,” Renjun replied, tilting his face towards Jeno’s so he could have a clear view of his eye roll.

Somehow, the force of Jeno’s pout grew stronger.

“Are you ever going to let us visit you in the summer, Injunnie? Do you not want us around?” Jeno asked, voice edging on a whine. Renjun just raised his eyebrows.

“And who’s this ‘us’?” He asked, knowing very well who Jeno was talking about.

“Me and Jaemin! Jaemin and I! You’ve never invited us round, Injun. It makes us sad.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Renjun laughed, pushing Jeno’s face away from where it had gotten very close to his own.

“It makes us sad!” Jeno repeated, indignant.

“I never thought you wanted to visit that badly,” Renjun shrugged. “It’s not exactly interesting. I just do muggle stuff, you know, with Sicheng, when Yuta’s not trying to suck his teeth out of his gums. Sometimes me being there doesn’t even stop them, Jeno, are you saying you want to see that?”

“If it means finally meeting your family – then yes!”

“You guys _have_ met my family!”

If Jeno were standing, he’d have stomped his feet. He settled for battering his fists against Renjun’s arm, instead. “Waving at you and your dad from his car does _not_ count, Renjun!”

Renjun squirmed away from Jeno’s fists.

“Fine, if you want to visit so bad,” Renjun said, lying back onto the grass so he could roll away with ease. “I’m warning you though - if you die from boredom -”

“Impossible!” Jeno yelled, too loud for the quiet of the afternoon. He had somehow maneuvered himself into a crouching position, and it took Renjun just a second too long to realise what was about to happen before he had the full weight of Lee Jeno on top of him.

“Getting started without me?” Came a familiar voice from Renjun’s right, and he struggled to extend an arm to that general direction.

“Help - me -” Renjun gasped at Jaemin, who just rolled up his sleeves. Renjun squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for the impact, and sure enough, Jaemin joined their puppy pile not a moment later.

“I got him to say yes!” Jeno yelled happily into Renjun’s ear, voice breaking into a pained grunt as Renjun rammed his elbow into what he hoped was his gut.

“ _Nice_ ,” Jaemin said, also too loud and far too happy. Renjun really didn’t know how he ended up befriending two of the most tactile wizards at Hogwarts.

“You are both menaces,” Renjun said, still squirming. Going limp and relaxed in their holds would probably have been the smarter move, in the blaring heat of the sun, but Renjun refused to bend to their wishes. Not again.

“Aw Injun,” Jaemin said, breath hot and obnoxious against Renjun’s ear. “You love us, really.”

Jaemin’s words triggered a burst of heat in Renjun’s chest, feverishly travelling over his already sun-hot skin. Renjun saw the streaks of summer sun glint off the Great Lake, just over Jeno’s shoulder, and felt the urge to drown himself in it. He had always wondered if Jaemin knew about the effect he had on people, and was just doing this shit to Renjun on _purpose_ , or if he really had no idea.

Nothing else could explain why Renjun couldn’t just disagree with Jaemin whenever he said stuff like that.

“It’s not a problem, is it, Renjun?” Jaemin asked, after they had tugged each other up to their feet, and Jeno had run off yelling about being late for a Quidditch team meeting. His eyes were wide and unfairly earnest, as if he and Jeno hadn’t planned on cornering Renjun for weeks.

As usual, disagreement was slow to arrive to Renjun’s mind. “No,” Renjun had said. “No problem at all.”

☆

The problem was this (and it was simple, really):

Jeno and Jaemin were dating.

Now this wouldn’t have been a problem if they had just _told_ Renjun. In their years of friendship, Renjun’s friends had never been particularly good at keeping this to themselves, and any other time, Renjun would insist that they had never even wanted to. It wouldn’t have been a problem if all of Renjun’s friends weren’t somehow _involved_ with one another, leaving him behind, leaving him alone. It wouldn’t have been a problem if Renjun could just stop _lying_ to himself and –

Well.

So maybe the real problem was Renjun’s huge, undeniable, inexplicable, all-encompassing crush on two of his best friends.

And not any of that other stuff. Not really.

Now, Renjun was a man of the twenty-first century. He knew was polyamory was. But Renjun joining their relationship was hardly on the cards, and crystallising his status as eternal third-wheel was as unappealing as eating dung-bombs. At least, not with Jaemin and Jeno sneaking around – though they were hardly fooling anybody. When Renjun had asked Donghyuck if he’d noticed anything fishy, Donghyuck couldn’t even deny anything.

(And everyone knew that Donghyuck was more than a little clairvoyant.)

☆

Renjun usually enjoyed potions, but with the pungent smell that plugged his senses, seeping into the threads of his robes, the lesson on Amortentia was one he wouldn’t mind forgetting.

Renjun hardly found love potions romantic (if anything, they were more than a little creepy and more than a little difficult to brew), the smell of oil paints or some sort of varnish mixed with the incense his mother liked to burn was enough to make him lightheaded, and the blushing and constant whispering of his classmates was enough to make him sick. Not even watching Donghyuck argue with Jaemin about the best way to crush moonstone could entertain him when he wanted to retch into his sleeve every five minutes.

Renjun didn’t even have Jeno to complain to, with the Hufflepuffs having their lesson with the Ravenclaws later in the week. He just stirred the potion when his partner – a Gryffindor called Soyeon with the least-subtle house-coloured hair Renjun had ever seen (and Mark had once spelled his own hair red) – told him to, and tried his best not to be sick.

Renjun had never been so quick to leave the dungeons once Professor Kang excused them, grateful that Soyeon had taken one look at the queasiness written across his face and offered to tidy up their station.

“So,” Jaemin asked, sidling up to him as Renjun power-walked away from their classroom as fast as possible, long legs smoothly catching up with him. “What’d you smell in the Amortentia, Injunnie?”

Renjun rolled his eyes. “I could barely tell the smells apart,” he said, which wasn’t quite a lie. “Something incensey, and something gross and industrial. You’d think I’d be immune to the smell of oil paint by now, but it still packs a punch. I thought I was gonna faint!”

“And there I was, thinking you were lightheaded at the thought of true love,” Jaemin nudged Renjun with his shoulder, teasing smile playing at his lips.

“Well, _I_ didn’t have to smell what I did, but it was nice to get confirmation, you know?” Donghyuck said, appearing on Renjun’s other side. He was a little more out of breath than Jaemin was. “Thank _you_ Mark Lee for using the same hair potion since you were nine years old.”

“Sleakeazy’s for babies?” Jaemin said, already moving to dodge Donghyuck’s incoming punch.

Renjun fell back to let the other two scrabble at each other. Donghyuck was sort of right, he mused, what _exactly_ did the Amortentia tell him? That he loved his family? That he loved art? Honestly, the paint thing could as easily have revealed he was going to fall in love with a painter as it could have told him he was a narcissist who was going to die alone.

Shaking his head of those thoughts, Renjun leapt forward to grab his two friends’ elbows, looping his arms around theirs.

“I would like to stop talking about love potions now, and eat some damn dinner,” he said, guiding them down the stairs to the great hall, where Jeno was waiting in his black-and-canary glory. Renjun tried to school his expression into something less… obviously displeased, but he did a poor job of it.

“Amortentia lesson,” Jaemin chirped happily at Jeno’s pointed look. Renjun fought the urge to sigh.

“Don’t ask,” Renjun grumbled, hand already around Jeno’s elbow to frog-march the group of them towards the Slytherin table.

Thankfully, Jeno complied. It was easy for the conversation to derail once Mark joined them, smelling of the same calming chamomile that the Potters had marketed to parents for decades. Renjun felt his irritation melt away as evening went on, freshly roasted potatoes and steaming puddings masking the cloying scent of potion that seemed to cling to the air around the Sixth Year class.

Jisung found Renjun quickly after dinner, worn transfiguration textbook tucked under his arm and quill clutched tight in his hand. Chenle’s shrieking laughter followed him, as always, so Renjun made the executive decision to ban him from the library as he tutored his friend.

Jisung was easy to tutor – easier, at least, than the other Fourth Year that Professor Lee had sent Renjun’s way in the past year. Jisung wasn’t as taken with transfiguration as he was with Quidditch, but he worked hard and Renjun had a sneaking suspicion that his marks had more to do with the state of his handwriting than any lack of knowledge.

Minutes turned to hours as Renjun helped Jisung edit his essay on Animagi, especially after they got distracted by Jisung’s hypothesis that transfiguration Professors at Hogwarts were only hired if they could turn into a cat (Renjun reluctantly agreed – he distinctly remembered Jeno telling him that his cousin’s boyfriend could turn into a ragdoll cat, and a year later Lee Taeyong became the youngest transfiguration professor Hogwarts had seen in the last century). They hardly noticed the candlelight replace the light of the setting sun before they were being shooed back to their dorms by the ghostly Lady Kwon.

Renjun was about ready to drop. He wanted nothing more than to take off his shoes and plant his face solidly into his pillow and let sleep take the day away from him. After seeing Jisung off at the kitchens he made his way back to the dungeons and the comforting green glow of the Slytherin common room. He found the Giant Squid hovering by the window, her many legs swirling amongst the ropes of seaweed that hung over the curve of glass that separated Renjun from the water.

As tired as the day had made him, Renjun always found time to greet the Squid when she came to visit.

Renjun dropped a cushion by the window and curled his legs under it. He tilted his head against the window, finger following the invisible patterns the Squid’s tentacles created in the swirl of water. He let out an obscenely large yawn, slumping further against the glass. _A little nap wouldn’t hurt_ , he thought, as one of the blankets slung over the arm of the sofa nearest to him crept over to cover his legs. _I’ll get up in five minutes_.

Renjun startled awake as a furry tail brushed over his ankles, exposed between his robes and his fallen sock. The calico colouring of the cat was familiar, even in the murky light, and Renjun shook his head to clear it.

“ _Seollie_?” He whispered, reaching out. Jeno’s cat curled its tail around Renjun’s wrist, letting out a sheepish purr. It wasn’t unusual for her to be found in the Slytherin common room, not least because Jaemin had been helping to sneak her into the castle as his own pet since Jeno had shed actual tears in Second Year because he couldn’t bring all three of his cats to Hogwarts with him.

“What time is it?” Renjun muttered to himself, lifting his arm to look at his watch.

**01:47** blinked back at him, and he groaned.

_Why did I let myself fall asleep on the ground_ , he thought, irritated. His arm was numb, and his neck was going to make him regret this particular life decision later. He looked to the window again, but the Squid was gone. He moved to push himself up off the ground, but the sound of the dormitory door opening shocked him into stillness.

“Seollie?” said the person, not bothering to whisper. The voice disturbed the stillness of the empty common room, and Renjun felt confusion colour his thoughts.

The cat disentangled itself from where it had nestled into Renjun’s blanket. She trotted over to her owner, tail high, eager for more pets.

“There you are,” Jeno said, affection colouring his voice. From behind the sofa, Renjun saw Jeno lift the cat into his arms. “Let’s go home, hmm?”

Renjun sucked in a breath. Jeno was practically a permanent fixture in the Slytherin common room, but it was unusual for even him to be out this late. Unlike Renjun and Donghyuck, who pulled the best friend card every time Jaemin saw them breaking curfew, Jeno wasn’t that close with the Hufflepuff prefects. And he wasn’t exactly subtle when he tried to sneak through the castle at night, either.

(“Downside of being an honorary Slytherin,” Donghyuck liked to say. “Not that there are any others.”)

The great metal common room door swung closed behind Jeno, and Renjun dragged himself to his dorm room on autopilot. The tiredness returned immediately to his bones, and no matter how much he shook his head, he couldn’t clear the confusion from his mind.

He pushed the dorm door open as quietly as possible, wincing at the creak that only seemed to sound after midnight. Luckily, nothing stirred in the three beds opposite Renjun’s own – their curtains pulled tight against the light that shone on Jaemin’s bedside table.

Renjun froze in the doorway, but Jaemin seemed to look right through him, haloed by his lamp. He was sat up in his bed, hair mussed as if he’d just played a game of Quidditch, helmet messing up the artful perfection of his fringe. Renjun crept towards his bed, eyes glued to Jaemin’s flushed cheeks, the cherry-redness of his lips, usually cracked with dryness caused his frustrating aversion to lip balm that drove Renjun up the wall.

It was a strange image, Jaemin sitting alone on his bed like that. It was almost as though something was missing – some _one_. Renjun’s hands unconsciously gripped the curtains of his bed with an unusual strength, sliding them apart with a fierceness that made the rings jingle loudly together.

“Merlin’s beard!” Jaemin exclaimed, jumping almost comically high, voice cracking. He pressed a hand dramatically to his chest as his eyes miraculously – finally – found Renjun’s own.

“Jeepers, Injunnie,” Jaemin said, and Renjun immediately regretted the conversation they had in Fourth Year where he brought up Scooby-Doo.

“You’re up late,” Renjun said lightly, pulling his pyjamas trousers on under his robes.

“What?” Jaemin replied, eyes so wide as he trained his stupid, earnest gaze on Renjun, as if he hadn’t literally been invisible to him not moments before. Renjun turned around to pull his shirt on over his head, discarding his robes on the floor between them.

“I _said_ , what are you doing up so late?” Renjun asked, feigning ignorance.

“Oh, um, nothing. Hyuck’s sleep-talking must have woken me up,” Jaemin said, running a hand through his hair. He absentmindedly smoothed down the cowlick that had formed at his nape.

As if on cue, a string of mumbles came from Donghyuck’s bed.

“Huh,” Renjun said, the quietness of his voice shocking himself. He sounded… upset. No, he sounded _broken_ , which was ridiculous and disproportionate and why was Jaemin _lying_ to him?

“No late-night visitors?”

Jaemin barked out a quiet laugh. “Who would be visiting me at this hour?” he asked, and Renjun didn’t answer. “Hey,” Jaemin said, smoothness returning to his voice and easy smile on his face. “Don’t worry about it.” He leaned over to shut off his lamp. “You feeling okay, Injunnie? Want to sleep in my bed tonight?”

Renjun slid under his own duvet. “No thanks,” he whispered to the ceiling. “Sleep well, Jaemin.”

He turned over to face Donghyuck’s bed, back to Jaemin. He barely registered Jaemin’s wish of sweet dreams as he stared resolutely at Donghyuck’s sleep-swollen face through the opening of his curtains, squished up against his pillow and muttering incoherently about promises and secrets.

☆

Renjun gripped the cool metal of the door handle, face pressed against the peephole in his front door.

He didn’t know why he was so nervous. It hadn’t even been long since Renjun had last seen them. But the soupy summer heat had descended upon England faster than he could blink, and all the time he thought he had to mentally prepare himself for his friends’ arrival disappeared the more he slept in and the more he tried to ignore his… feelings.

_You can do this!_ said a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Nakamoto Yuta. _You’re Huang Renjun! You didn’t get to where you are now without taking a couple of risks!_

Granted, Yuta was still under the impression that the biggest risk Renjun had ever taken in his life was submitting a gigantic portrait of Moomin (the troll, not his dog) as part of his supposed portfolio to get into the super exclusive private arts school he supposedly attended, he still appreciated the pep talk Yuta gave him when he found Renjun face down in the grass angsting about his best friends.

Steeling himself, Renjun unlatched the door and swung it open, perhaps with a touch too much force (or maybe it was excitement). On his very muggle doormat, in his very muggle neighbourhood, stood Na Jaemin and Lee Jeno, both shining even brighter in the midday sun now that their images weren’t warped by the fish-eye lens.

“Hello,” Renjun said, smile taking over his face in an instant. Merlin, the effect they had on him was almost Pavlovian. “Long time no – see!”

Renjun stumbled back with the force of Jaemin’s hug. A second warmth wrapped around his side, and Renjun was suddenly in the middle of a very warm, very attractive, very friendly friend sandwich.

“Did you get lost on the way to the door, Injunnie?” Jaemin said, right into his ear. Renjun would have shivered if he had the space. He probably would have punched Jaemin, too, but that was neither here nor there. “Jeno and I almost thought we’d gotten the wrong house.”

“I didn’t hear you knock,” Renjun said, hiding his lying face in Jaemin’s shoulder. “You could’ve used the doorbell, you know.”

Jaemin sniffed, loud and wet into Renjun’s ear. Behind him, Jeno let out a squeaking laugh. “The last time Jaemin pressed a button was when Jisung pranked him with one of those eclecticity doo-das from WWW,” he said. Jaemin shuddered, the movement making all three of them tremble.

“I’m never trusting that rascal again,” Jaemin said sadly. “Ah! But he’s just too cute not to trust!”

“You’re going to have to get used to the electricity, you know,” Renjun said as he shuffled them along into the living room, kicking the front door closed behind him. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

Renjun’s mother had let him use his newly acquired magical freedom to transfigure Sicheng’s old camping mat into a double-mattress, but not even Renjun could have made his postage-stamp of a room big enough to allow for any room to walk around it. He gestured for Jaemin to hang his and Jeno’s bags on the back of his door, and apologised for his bedroom being more bed than room.

“This is _awesome_ , Injunnie,” Jaemin said, diving head-first into the pillows. “It’ll be like a sleepover!”

Renjun couldn’t help but squint. “We’ve shared a dorm with four other people for six years, Jaemin.”

“Still!” Jaemin exclaimed, sitting up to tug Renjun down onto the mattress next to him. “A _real_ sleepover, then. Hey, do you want to start telling me all your secrets now, or…”

“Jaemin thinks secret-sharing is an essential part of muggle sleepover culture,” Jeno said cheerily. He spun lazily – as best as he could in the small space – before flopping down onto the mattress himself, landing with his elbows cushioned on Jaemin’s stomach. They looked like a dream in Renjun’s bedroom, grappling at each other like idiots, and Renjun desperately wanted to pinch himself.

“Dongyoung lent us his old Muggle Studies textbook,” Jaemin wheezed by way of explanation. Renjun had never taken Muggle Studies himself, but he had a suspicion that they didn’t extensively cover sleepovers as part of the course.

“And here I thought you swapped out Muggle Studies for Ancient Runes after Christmas in Third Year,” Renjun said, amused.

“Hey,” Jaemin said, pouting a little. Behind him, Jeno propped his head up on his hands to look at Renjun, hair a mess. “I’ve never stayed in a Muggle household before,” Jaemin traced the pattern of Renjun’s IKEA sheets, forefinger swirling dangerously near Renjun’s ear, “and it’s the first time either of us have properly met your family. I wanted to do the research. I didn’t want to offend.”

A rush of affection crashed uncontrollably into Renjun. Before he could overthink it, he turned to bury his head into Jaemin’s chest in a crushing hug.

“You’re too cute,” he said, hoping his words would be muffled by the cotton of Jaemin’s t-shirt.

“Thank you,” he said, to the both of them. “You’re the best friends I could ever want.”

Jeno shuffled along the mattress – which really was just a bit too small for all three of them – to sling his leg over Renjun’s hip. He put his face unbearably close to Renjun’s, smile in full force.

“So,” Jeno said, the picture of innocence, “why don’t we do some Netflix and chill? Mark told me that’s what all the muggles are doing these days.”

“I changed my mind,” Renjun said, twisting away from them to hide his laugh. “You’re the worst.”

☆

Renjun was twelve the second time he spent the night next to a hospital bed. The first was during the summer before Sicheng turned sixteen, ankle broken just the week before his dance showcase and miraculously healed the next morning, Renjun’s tears soaking into the hospital blanket.

Renjun hadn’t been scared then, just upset. Upset that his brother was hurting, upset that Sicheng might not be able to perform when he’d been practicing so hard.

Seeing Jaemin fall of his broom, though, hanging limp like a doll where Jaehyun had caught him by his wrist seconds before he would have hit the ground – that scared Renjun right to his core.

When they made it to the Hospital Wing, Donghyuck had tried his best not to cry for all of three minutes before he began wailing, snot staining the shoulder of Renjun’s robes as tears streamed down Renjun’s own face. They stood vigil at Jaemin’s bedside as Master Zhang turned Jaemin this way and that, face pinched as he tapped his wand against the notches of his spine and the jutting bones of his hips. Jaemin was asleep through all of this – according to Jaehyun, the pain had probably caused him to lose consciousness before he started falling – and continued to sleep even as Master Zhang explained to the team that Jaemin would recover, and yes, he would turn a blind eye and let them Donghyuck and Renjun stay with him if you would just stop crying, Master Lee, young Master Na will be _fine_.

The chairs next to Jaemin’s bed were rickety and uncomfortable, but both boys fell asleep within minutes of the Slytherin team leaving the Hospital Wing. Dinner may have been the furthest thing from their minds – but not from Renjun’s stomach, as its rumbling woke him up from a very realistic dream involving a Sunday roast.

Renjun blinked himself awake, limbs heavy and half-numb from being curled up for hours. Before him, on Jaemin’s side table, sat a plate of roast vegetables and mashed potatoes, glistening with gravy, and for a moment Renjun thought that he’d defied Gamp’s Law through sheer force of hunger.

“You can have some, if you want,” said a voice to Renjun’s left. He whirled around, half expecting to see Donghyuck awake, and nearly fell off his chair in shock.

He didn’t recognise the Hufflepuff – whose eyes were hidden behind his thick black hair and his chin tucked into the bumblebee stripes of his House scarf – nor did he recognise the cat that was curled up in his arms. What he did recognise, was the expression on the boy’s face – the concern, the _worry_.

“I got it for Nana, in case he was hungry, but… I guess he’s still asleep?” The boy continued, absentmindedly running his fingers through the cat’s fur.

“Yeah,” Renjun said, clearing his throat. “Master Zhang said the spell would help him sleep until tomorrow… he said it would help with the pain, too.”

The Hufflepuff’s eyes welled up with tears, and Renjun jumped up, alarmed. “It’s okay,” the boy said, sniffing. “I just feel so _bad_ for him! I was so scared when I saw him fall!”

Renjun felt his throat tighten. “Me too,” he said, reaching out to grab the boy by his elbow. “But he’ll be okay! Master Zhang said so!”

“Master… Zhang… heal…” muttered Donghyuck, whose head lay on the duvet next to Jaemin’s hand.

The Hufflepuff huffed out a laugh. “Does he sleep-talk a lot?” He asked.

“Who, Donghyuck?” Renjun said, rolling his eyes affectionately. “Sometimes he sleep-talks entire prophecies.”

“He must be right about Master Zhang healing Jaemin, then,” the boy said, hope ringing clear through his voice. “Oh! I’m Jeno, by the way. I’m on the Hufflepuff team. That’s how I know Jaemin.”

Renjun, who had been bed-ridden with the flu during Slytherin’s first game against Hufflepuff around Halloween, shook Jeno’s outstretched hand. “I’m Renjun,” he said, “hey, thanks for coming to see Jaemin.”

Jeno’s nose turned pink. “Of course. Say, Jaemin talks about you and Donghyuck a whole lot, I don’t know how we haven’t met before.”

Renjun turned to look at Jaemin, unmoving under stark white sheets, and recalled the brightness of his smile before he headed out to the pitch, accepting unending luck and love from their House. He thought about this Hufflepuff, sitting petrified on the other side of the stands, as their friend plummeted to the ground.

“Well,” Renjun said, choking on the word, “we’re friends now.”

Before he knew it, arms wrapped around Renjun’s thin shoulders, a gentle hand pressing his head into a warm shoulder. A cat curled itself around Jaemin’s hand – protective.

“He has us,” Jeno said softly, “don’t cry.”

Renjun sniffed loudly in the quiet of the room, barely registering the tears that had begun to form in the corners of his eyes. “It’s not fair,” he whimpered.

“I know,” Jeno said calmly. “But when he wakes up tomorrow, all of us will be here, and he won’t be happy to know that he made you cry.”

Renjun couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. He extracted himself from Jeno’s hug, pushing playfully – incredulously – against his shoulder.

“He made you cry too!” Renjun said, choking on a laugh.

Jeno rolled his eyes, but a split second later, a grin threatened to take over his face. “Do you think he’ll start calling himself a heartbreaker again?”

“Ugh,” Renjun said, fond. “He’ll just be fooling himself.”

“I dunno,” Jeno grinned, dropping down into the seat next to Renjun’s. “He _did_ make us cry. Maybe he’s the one who has us fooled.”

☆

“So this is the post office,” Jaemin said slowly, hand tight around Renjun’s upper arm as if he were at risk of being kidnapped – or worse, _spoken to_ – by one of the many octogenarians that inhabited Renjun’s village.

“It can’t be,” Jeno said loudly. “Where are the owls?”

“I thought you said you’d read Dongyoung’s textbook,” Renjun hissed, pulling them into the queue. He was almost starting to regret letting his mother convince him that running errands with his friends would be a good idea. It really shouldn’t be such a hard task, not breaching the Statute of Secrecy while returning a couple of impulsive Asos orders, but it was already proving extremely difficult.

“I did, thank you,” Jeno sniffed, “and it says that some muggles keep owls as pets _too_. Why wouldn’t they have owl post? They used to use pigeons!”

Renjun opened his mouth to respond, but was confronted by Jeno’s logic. In the face of Jeno’s triumphant expression, he decided to stay silent.

“They would certainly save some money on stamps,” Jaemin added. “Which, by the way, I still don’t understand the purpose of.”

“Okay, your point has been made,” Renjun said, handing his package over to the unsmiling clerk. “But this return is pre-paid, so it wouldn’t make a difference to me.”

“I wouldn’t trust another person with _my_ post,” Jaemin continued, as Jeno wandered off to explore the wonders of muggle scratch cards.

Renjun glanced over at Jeno, who was now poking at a display of calculators with interest. “What have you got to send that’s so important, then?”

Jaemin hummed, leaning down to rest his chin on Renjun’s shoulder. Renjun supressed a shudder, muscles freezing.

“Secrets,” Jaemin whispered, and he blew into Renjun’s ear.

Jaemin didn’t even resist Renjun’s reactionary chokehold, and happily let himself get dragged over to the other side of the shop where Jeno was excitedly talking about freeze charms and ice creams. Renjun took a break from pinching Jaemin’s ear to buy them all Twisters, and jumped into a heated discussion with Jeno about muggle ice lollies versus Fortiscue’s sundaes.

The afternoon sun beat aggressively down on them as they walked the short walk from the village back to Renjun’s house, shining through the gaps in the leaves, a spattering of light against the roads.

Regret panged in Renjun’s chest. Why _hadn’t_ he spent summers with Jeno and Jaemin before? So many months wasted, that were only becoming apparent to Renjun as they approached their last year at Hogwarts – their last year _together_. The height of summer brought out something otherworldly in them – Jaemin, who was as much a son of summer as Mark and Donghyuck were, and thrived in the heat that turned his whole body golden. Even Jeno, whose nose was prone to burning no matter how many of his mother’s sun protection spells he used, loved the sun as much as his cats loved to curl up in its warmth to nap.

Well, maybe that was why.

It would simply have been too much for a younger, less experienced Renjun to handle.

Renjun popped his popsicle stick into his mouth, chewing on it in thought. “I’m really happy you’re both here,” he said eventually, into the comfortable silence. He hadn’t really meant to say it, but it felt right. It felt honest.

Jeno and Jaemin shared a look. “Renjun,” Jeno’s voice was almost a croon as he wrapped an arm around Renjun’s shoulders, “we love you too.”

As soon as Jeno said it, he and Renjun both pretended to gag. They laughed at their own theatrics, but Jaemin just smiled his widest, calmest smile. He opened his mouth to say something, but a surprised noise escaped his throat instead.

“Look!” He exclaimed. “A car!”

“There are cars parked all up this street, Jaemin.”

“But there’s one outside your _house_.”

Renjun squinted against the sun. “Huh,” he said, swiping at his watch, “I guess Sicheng is back. He didn’t text me, though.”

“Was he at work?” Jeno asked, peaking at Renjun’s watch.

“Not today,” Renjun hummed, letting Jeno manhandle his arm to get a better look at his watch’s flashing interface. The last time Jeno must have seen a smart watch was when Chenle tried to sneak his into Hogwarts last year, showing his friends right before it exploded in the middle of the start-of-term feast, overwhelmed by magic.

Honestly, Renjun was just impressed it had even lasted that long.

Renjun slipped his keys out of his pocket and turned to open the door. “Oh!” he said, tapping a palm against his forehead before spinning back towards his friends (who were very, very close – squeezed together to fit all three of them on the welcome mat). “I completely forgot! You haven’t met her yet because Sicheng and Yuta took her to the park in the next town over, but the dog–”

“The _dog_ ,” drawled Sicheng, pulling the door open, “is about to wet herself in excitement. So you guys had better just come in already.”

Sicheng flashed a smile, and Renjun watched as his friends fell head-first into his brother’s inescapable charms. “Don’t say that,” he chided, “she’s not done that since she was a puppy. You’ll embarrass her.”

“She can’t hear me,” Sicheng rolled his eyes, ruffling Renjun’s hair. “Yuta’s just washing her feet outside. Hey, you guys must be… Jeno, right? And Jaemin?”

Said boys stood in the doorway, nodding. They were shoulder to shoulder, as if they’d never stepped foot in the Huang-Dong residence before. Renjun scowled at them, and ignored Jaemin’s wink back.

Sicheng shot a look at Renjun, which he also ignored. “I’m Sicheng,” he said in greeting, and was rewarded by twin grins and waves. “If you see a short, red-headed man running around, that’s my boyfriend Yuta.”

“I’m not that short,” Yuta appeared to smack a kiss against Sicheng’s cheek, “you’re just tall, babe.”

Renjun tried to convey all of his traumatic experiences of witnessing his brother and his boyfriend’s PDA in one withering look at his friends, who hid their snickers behind their hands.

“Hey,” Sicheng started, “where’s Moomin? Wasn’t she just with you?”

As if summoned (and perhaps she was, as Renjun had spent a long time painstakingly training her to come to him at the call of her name), Renjun’s dog sped into the room, looking rather like one of those streaky clouds that appeared before a storm.

Or at least, the cutest streaky cloud Renjun had ever seen.

“Oh!” Jaemin said, jumping back from where Moomin had started spinning around in circles. “That’s a dog!”

Next to him, Jeno sneezed.

“We’ve been over this,” Renjun started, just as Yuta asked, “Are you allergic to dogs?”. Next to him, Sicheng crouched to catch Moomin as she ran past, her tail thumping rapidly against his arm as he cooed at her.

Jeno sneezed again.

“I suppose he is. Say, I’m not sure Jeno has ever met a dog,” Jaemin said.

“Really?” Yuta asked. “Not ever?”

“Most wi– _ow_ , Injunnie– _he’s_ much more of a cat person. Yes. He prefers cats. Loves them. He’s got three.”

Yuta looked almost wistful. “That’s a lot of cats,” he said. Renjun supposed he wasn’t wrong. “It’s a good thing you’re not allergic to them, then.”

“Oh, Jeno’s allergic to cats too,” Jaemin said. Jeno nodded miserably.

“Some things just can’t be helped.”

Sicheng moved to stand. “Do you want an antihistamine? I think we’ve got some in a drawer somewhere…”

Puzzlement was written all over Jeno’s face. Not even his streaming eyes could cover it. “What are–”

“Jeno should have some allergy meds in his bag!” Renjun says, leaping between Jeno and his brother. Jeno made a vague noise of understanding behind him, and Renjun made a mental note to hunt down the pills when Sicheng and Yuta left. He didn’t trust Jaemin’s healing spells enough to risk Jeno’s nose over some dog fur.

Sicheng shot him an exasperated look, and Renjun gestured frantically to Yuta, who had already turned back to Jaemin.

“What about you, Jaemin? You ever met a dog?”

Sicheng hit Yuta lightly in the arm. “Don’t be silly,” he told him, but Yuta just pulled a sillier face back at him.

“Of course I have,” Jaemin said proudly. “My family owns hounds. We have several. But they don’t really come in the house - they protect our grounds.”

“Good God,” Yuta said.

“I think you mean good dogs,” Jaemin said. Yuta let out a startled laugh, delighted.

“I’m serious,” Jaemin said very seriously. “They’re good dogs, Yuta.”

“Alright! Didn’t you tell ma that you were going to cook dinner? Before she came back from work? As in now?” Renjun asked Sicheng pointedly. Sicheng rolled his eyes, pulling Yuta up from the sofa. Yuta’s face was frozen in a grin so wide his face could have split open. Renjun had never seen him so happy – or terrifying.

“I like this one,” Yuta said loudly, as he did most things. “Good dogs… Did you hear that, Winwinnie? Hey Renjun, you’d better keep him!”

Renjun felt his cheeks flush. Jaemin whirled around to grab Renjun by the shoulders, face alight with a smug smile.

“Are you going to take his advice, Injun?” Jaemin asked in a way that really should have infuriated Renjun, if he could just catch his breath. He darted his eyes to where Jeno had sidled up to Jaemin.

“Hey, how can I get your brother’s boyfriend’s approval?” Jeno asked, eyes wide and shiny as he stared imploringly at Renjun. “It’s not fair that he likes Jaemin more than me! You should keep both of us!”

“You don’t need his approval,” Renjun said to the ceiling, feeling impossibly warm. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jaemin stick his tongue out at Jeno.

“I’m going to show you what Netflix is, now,” Renjun said instead of addressing the weird tension he was feeling in his chest, turning towards the stairs and away from the sounds of Yuta and Sicheng being Yuta and Sicheng in the kitchen. “Follow me if you want to experience muggle procrastination.”

“Procrastination?” Renjun heard Jaemin whisper to Jeno. “I thought you said Mark said it was a sex thing?”

Three episodes of Stranger Things later, Jaemin was entirely convinced that Mark Lee was a filthy liar.

“I really have no idea what that was about,” Jeno said, “like, not even a little bit.”

Renjun opened his mouth to explain (or at least, try to), but was interrupted by Sicheng yelling his name up the stairs, followed by his mother yelling his name up the stairs.

“Is your mum home?” Jeno asked, though Renjun had a feeling it was rhetorical. “Oh Merlin, I’m nervous.”

Renjun made a noise of confusion, which turned into a noise of pain as he bumped his thigh against the frame of his bed. “Why?” he wheezed, “it’s just my mum. She’s cool.”

“We’re literally _meeting the parents_ , Injun,” Jaemin said, as if that explained anything. “Of course we’d be nervous.”

“ _Xuxi’s_ met my mother,” Renjun said, a little exasperated and a lot fond as he led them down the stairs, trailing after him like ducklings.

Renjun’s mother looked no-nonsense, and she was. She practiced at the teaching hospital in the next town over, while Renjun’s stepfather was a computer science Professor at that same town’s university. They were also the warmest, kindest people Renjun knew – but he did understand why Jeno and Jaemin could be intimidated. He just thought that after all their years of putting up with each other, they would have realised that Renjun’s parents were going to love them like their own sons.

“Jeno! Jaemin!” Renjun’s mum exclaimed as the three of them emerged downstairs, bypassing her son to greet them with a hug. Renjun pulled a face at his dad, who patted his shoulder consolingly, before greeting Renjun’s friends himself.

“It’s so nice to have you boys here,” Renjun’s dad said, “I hope you two have settled in alright – though I’m sure it can’t be too different to what you’re used to!”

Renjun shot an apologetic look as his friends turned their confused smiles towards him. Though his family knew about wizards, they hadn’t met any besides Renjun and Chenle, who was a half-blood and lived very comfortably surrounded by muggles. They just couldn’t seem to grasp the differences between the wizarding world and theirs. At least, they couldn’t see why other wizards wouldn’t be like Renjun – who had caused many toasters to inexplicably stop working just by touching one but at least knew what a plug was.

And with Yuta still ignorant to the fact and standing in the next room, Renjun hardly had the chance to try to explain.

Again.

Luckily, Sicheng’s father’s retelling of a lecture he had given the previous week managed to transfix Jeno and Jaemin for the entirety of dinner. It was topic so obscure that their fascination and utter confusion was no different from someone who had grown up around technology. Renjun and Sicheng certainly didn’t even pretend they understood what he was talking about, while Yuta and Renjun’s mother had their own lively discussion about Yuta’s philosophy doctorate that was similarly difficult to follow.

Renjun had never felt more at home, surrounded by his family.

While Renjun’s mum accepted Jeno’s offer to help Renjun clear the table while Jaemin was whisked away with promises of baby pictures, she thankfully redirected Yuta’s attention as Jeno instinctively reached for his wand to do the dishes. She blinked at the sponge moving in circles by itself across her crockery, and broke into a smile. She patted Renjun’s cheek and took Yuta to the front room.

“You know, I’ve been doing dishes by hand since I’ve been home.”

Jeno chuckled at Renjun, who just shook his head at himself. Renjun shifted to let Jeno’s magic retrieve a tea towel from a cupboard to dry the dishes, and found himself chest-to-chest with the boy.

“Hey,” Jeno said into the space between them, breath puffing over Renjun’s lips, “I just wanted to say thank you.” He tilted his head so that he was a little closer to Renjun’s eye level. His smile was all sweet curves – his lips, his cheeks, his eyes. A weapon that would be lethal on anyone less kind than Jeno was. Renjun took an instinctive step back, and the marble slab of the kitchen counter dug into his hip. Unperturbed, Jeno simply shifted closer, hand resting dangerously close to where Renjun’s rested by the sink.

Personal space was never a _thing_ with his friends, this Renjun had known since first year. What he didn’t know, was when he started to notice how Jeno would bend just so he could rest his head on Renjun’s shoulder, or how Jaemin liked to stand so close to Renjun that even if they weren’t touching, Renjun could still feel the heat radiating off him.

It wasn’t as if Renjun woke up one day, suddenly aware of every little thing they did, of every molecule that hovered between them. It must have been a gradual thing, so slow (and so natural) that when Renjun _did_ notice, the behaviour was so ingrained into their interactions that to take a step back would be entirely impossible.

And that was where Renjun found himself, stuck between a rock and, well, Lee Jeno. Squeezed into a corner of the tiny kitchen, Renjun hardly dared to exhale – not with Jeno’s face so close to his, and smiling so sweetly too.

“I’m serious,” Jeno continued, and oh yes, they were having a conversation. Jeno was thanking him for… something.

“Hmm?” The noise that escaped Renjun’s mouth was far too high for his liking.

Jeno giggled – honest to Merlin _giggled_ – and Renjun fought the violent urge to press Jeno’s cheeks between his palms and never ever let go.

“You know,” Jeno continued, “Jaemin and I were thinking… _don’t_ say it!”

Renjun dutifully bit down on the ‘that makes a change’ that was pretty much instinct at this point, and nodded.

“We were thinking about next year, you know? And how everyone thinks that everything’s going to change.”

“I don’t like where this is going.”

“Hey, hear me out. Hear _us_ out. We just wanted to tell you that change can be a good thing, you know? We know that you can get in your head sometimes.”

Renjun stared at Jeno’s face, trying to detect some hint of a joke. He found none – just complete sincerity etched into every feature. It wasn’t like Jeno to be all cryptic – honestly, it was more Renjun’s forte – but Renjun felt his heart settle all the same.

Even if he wasn’t quite sure what Jeno was talking about.

Jeno’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, and Renjun’s eyes helplessly followed the movement. He wanted to shake his head, to close his eyes against the quiet building of heat in his chest, but there was no _room_. He was still cornered – in his own home, with his family right outside – trapped inside the bubble that Jeno had created.

“Should I be jealous?” Jaemin’s voice popped the fragile atmosphere. Renjun jumped back as much as he could, but Jeno leaned back lazily, catching Jaemin’s eye with a smile. _God_ , how could Renjun have forgotten? Maybe they really were too good at keeping their relationship a secret. At least, good enough that for a moment, Renjun had allowed himself to fit himself alongside their puzzle – a matching piece.

“Sharing is caring,” Jeno said, back to being uncharacteristically cryptic, contrasting the sweet curve of his eyes as he smiled.

Jaemin blocked Renjun’s only escape route with a casual lean against the fridge, caging him in. His hand reached out to tap Renjun affectionately on the chin, and if Renjun had had all his bearings, Jaemin would have been at risk of losing the arm entirely. Lucky for Jaemin, then, that Renjun was simply too flustered to do anything.

“You let me know if this guy is bothering you,” Jaemin said. An act. _He always was such a goddamn flirt_ , Renjun thought helplessly as Jeno threw his head back in a laugh.

_Oh_ , Renjun wanted to scream, _not even Merlin himself could get me out of this mess_.

☆

A few days and three letters by owl post later, Renjun found himself texting Mark and Chenle, as he did every year, to meet up in Diagon Alley to buy school supplies. Though he had just graduated, Mark still had textbooks to buy for when he started his training at St. Mungo’s, and Renjun knew he’d get the message to Donghyuck.

It was nice to be going to London, even if it meant explaining for the sixteenth time to Jaemin and Jeno how he fit all his coins and bank notes into the tiny rectangle of plastic he used to pay for their tickets. Renjun didn’t even want to think about their reactions if they saw him use his phone to pay for the tube.

He was just glad that Diagon Alley was walking distance from King’s Cross.

The afternoon passed largely without incident, apart from when Jeno had tried to describe credit cards to a Goblin as Jaemin left to collect his annual allowance from his family vault. The Goblin had become strangely affronted by the idea that his job could be replaced by a piece of plastic no bigger than a business card, and by the end of the conversation, Jeno had ended up more confused than anyone else.

Renjun could hardly blame him. He didn’t even know what Gringotts did with the pounds he exchanged for Galleons to spend during the school year.

It didn’t take long for all of them to run their errands, and it was barely lunch time before Chenle announced his craving for ice cream. Fortiscue’s had been a steady favourite amongst visiting students, especially after it was rebuilt, but next to it stood a new storefront – one that only Donghyuck seemed to recognise.

“Effects,” Jisung read aloud, squinting up at the flashy purple sign. The store’s windows were flawless mirrors – not a smudge of fingerprint on them – and entirely empty save for the sign hanging on the door.

“It’s a fortune teller,” Donghyuck said, before Renjun got a chance to read the sign. “And before you ask, Renjun and I are going in.”

Renjun shrugged. Though he hadn’t chosen Divination as one of his NEWTs, he still enjoyed accompanying Donghyuck up to the classroom as he worked on his seer seeking. Besides, the Divination Professor had the most delicious selection of tea outside of Renjun’s mother’s kitchen.

“Oh, come on, Injun,” Jaemin said, just shy of a sneer. “Don’t you get enough from Professor Song at school?”

Jeno turned to slap Jaemin on the arm, narrowing his eyes. “Stop,” he said. A warning.

Renjun rolled his eyes and let Donghyuck take his hand. “You can stay out here, then,” Renjun said. “No one’s forcing you to get your cards read.”

“Shove off, Jaemin!” Donghyuck sang, tugging Renjun into the fortune teller’s shop. “Don’t get your robes in a twist!”

The door shut behind them with a jingle of bells. The shop itself was so unlike the Divination classroom at Hogwarts – clean lines of pale wood and modern furniture compared to the rich swathes of fabric that cloaked Professor Song’s tower.

“Crystal or Tarot?” Asked the receptionist, who blew a bubble of gum at them. She ran a hand over the shaven side of her head, jacket shifting to show a tattoo crawling from her shoulder to her collarbone. It moved like waves across her skin, and Renjun had to shake his head to stop himself from staring.

The receptionist grinned, all teeth. “You’re not the first person today to be admiring these,” she laughed, shaking her jacket off her shoulder to reveal more ink.

Behind her, the jewelled curtain snapped open.

“ _Amber_ ,” whined the fortune-teller. “Stop distracting them. They’re here for me.”

She looked sharply towards Renjun and Donghyuck, who unconsciously stood a bit straighter. She waved her hand, twice, and disappeared back behind the strings of gems, a swirl of crimson hair following her.

Renjun and Donghyuck shuffled to follow her, as the receptionist burst into laughter. “Am I distracting _you_ , Krystal?”

“You’re embarrassing me!” Krystal yelled, face flushed. She squeezed her eyes shut to compose herself, and gestured for Renjun and Donghyuck to sit before her desk.

It was a huge, glass monstrosity, strewn with notebooks and pens. Rows of crystal wands sat parallel to a dozen wooden ones, each carved with intricate patterns that were unlikely to be found even in a NEWT level Ancient Runes textbook. The clutter disappeared with a wave of Krystal’s arm, and she sat back against the sleek black leather of her executive chair, legs crossed.

“So you both want your cards read, huh?” She said, the drawl of her voice less bored than it was resigned – similar to how Professor Song’s could be. “Who wants to go first?”

Donghyuck looked sideways to Renjun. “I just want one question answered,” he whispered, and Renjun nodded with a smile.

Donghyuck turned excitedly towards Krystal, who was turning a stack of oversized cards over and over in her hands. Renjun hadn’t even noticed her procure them from anywhere, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she had snatched them out of thin air.

Real magic wasn’t all that different from what muggles called magic, sometimes.

Krystal’s hands stilled. She put the stack down, fingers folded delicately against the gilded pattern stamped onto the back of the cards. She tiled her head to the side, considering.

“Something tells me,” she said slowly, her lips curved in a barely-there smile, “that you already know the answer.”

Donghyuck’s answering grin was blinding.

He turned to grab at Renjun’s hands. “Your turn!” he chirped. “You don’t need a Celtic cross – just ask for three cards! Ooh, you should ask about your _love life_ – or, you know, lack thereof.”

“What in Merlin’s name are you talking about?” Renjun asked, more amused than anything. Donghyuck always made Divination classes more interesting, even if Renjun couldn’t find a reason for half of his outbursts.

“Think of a question,” Krystal said, sliding the stack across the table towards Renjun, “and pick your first card.”

Renjun pursed his lips and squeezed his eyes shut. He stretched his hand out, fingers brushing against the embossing of the top card–

Krystal’s hand wrapped around Renjun’s wrist. Her fingers were cold. Renjun’s eyes snapped open.

☆

Jaemin may have been a sceptic, but Renjun liked Divination.

He had almost tried to convince Renjun not to take it, but Renjun’s thought it sounded less arduous than, say, Arithmancy.

If he was being honest, palmistry involved more memorising than it did divine talent. At least, that was the excuse that Donghyuck and Jeno both gave (though for different reasons) before they rested their heads on their shared table, eyes closed.

Walking to their table, Professor Song took one unreadable look at them, then turned towards Renjun, palms held out in apology. She knelt before Renjun’s chair, a kaleidoscope of silk robes swirling around her, and peered at Renjun’s hands.

“Hmm… How interesting,” Professor Song hummed, soft. “You will have an interesting life, Mr Huang. But where will your heart take you?”

She took Renjun’s wrist in her hand, pulling until her nose nearly touched his palm.

“Look,” she said, turning his hand in the circle of her fingers. She traced her ringed fingers along the crease that ran from Renjun’s forefinger to his pinky. “Look,” she repeated, “look at how it splits, here. How intriguing.”

Renjun’s heart was in his throat.

“What do you mean?” he asked, voice high and trembling. _A broken heart line_ , he thought, _that sounds bad_.

“Don’t worry, young one,” Professor Song said, curling Renjun’s hand into a loose fist. She patted it once, twice.

“It just means that you will have to look to other places, sometimes, for love.”

☆

“You sure you’re not bothered by the cards you drew?” Donghyuck whispered, one arm looped around Renjun’s, his other hand tight in Mark’s. Renjun tore his eyes away from their fingers, intertwined.

Renjun shrugged. “The cards can be interpreted in many ways,” he said calmly.

_Reversed lovers_ , he thought bitterly. _What were the chances?_

An arm fell heavily across Renjun’s shoulders. “Injunnie knows it’s all balderdash, anyway,” Jaemin said. Renjun shrugged his arm off, suddenly annoyed.

“Didn’t Jeno tell you to stop?”

“You can’t be serious, Renjun,” Jaemin replied, voice annoyingly concerned. “I know everyone likes Professor Song, but that doesn’t mean any back-of-Diagon-Alley fortune teller can tell you what to think!”

“Guys…” said Jisung warily. Donghyuck pulled him back by the shoulders, shaking his head.

“Nobody is telling me what to think besides _you_ , Jaemin,” Renjun scoffed, a touch too angry. “Besides, Krystal knew about my heart line – you can’t tell me that’s a coincidence!”

“You’ve never even told me or Jeno about your weird thing with your hands, Renjunnie – but now you’re going around telling _strangers_? Why? Because you want to be told something good instead of bad?”

“We’re in public…” Jisung continued, but was quickly shushed by Donghyuck.

“Don’t worry, Jisung,” Renjun said, picking up his pace. “This conversation never happened.”

“It was barely even a conversation,” Jaemin said sharply, and Renjun cursed the length of Jaemin’s legs and their ability to annoy Renjun no matter how quickly he tried to walk.

“Alright everyone,” Mark said, obviously having none of it. “Hyuck and I have to go. Chenle, Jisung – I know Chenle’s mum is picking you guys up in ten minutes, so don’t even try it. And you three,” he continued, turning his glare on Renjun and Jaemin, Jeno a barrier between them. Renjun absently thought that he’d be a lot more intimidating if he weren’t still holding the hand of Donghyuck – who was staring innocently off to the side, licking melted ice cream off his wrist – and if he weren’t, you know, _Mark Lee_.

“Sort your shit out.”

“Yes captain,” Jeno said, with complete seriousness. “You made Mark mad,” he whispered, and Jaemin and Renjun both scoffed.

“Mark is as scary as a day-old kitten,” Jaemin said.

“It’s none of his business,” Renjun said.

Jeno looked warily between them. His hands made an aborted movement, like he wanted to grab both their arms, but Renjun flinched anyway. He let out a sigh, knuckles kneading at the headache forming at his temples.

“Jisung’s right,” Renjun started, digging the toe of his shoe into the dirt, “we obviously need to talk, but not here. Let’s just – let’s just head home.”

Jeno nodded. “I’ll Apparate us,” he said. “Jaemin? You ready?”

Jaemin was silent for a moment, and if he was pulling a face, or if his expression betrayed what he was thinking, Renjun didn’t know – he couldn’t even look at him.

“Fine,” Jaemin said, after a beat, and Jeno’s hand came to wrap warmly around Renjun’s forearm.

This time, he didn’t flinch, but the sick rolling of his stomach had nothing to do with the Apparition.

☆

It was Jaemin’s first match – first _real_ match – in four years, and it was raining.

It has been raining for almost a week, and Renjun had spent every meal in the great hall staring at its grey ceiling and praying for the match to be cancelled.

Renjun was sure he’d take this to the grave. He couldn’t tell Jeno, who was as excited for Jaemin to be playing again as Jaemin was. He _certainly_ couldn’t tell Jaemin, who had been diligently attending his physical therapy sessions as well as every Slytherin team practice since second year, even if he would be confined to the stands each time.

It was selfish, Renjun’s wish, but if he had to see Jaemin fall from his broom again, have to sit by Jeno’s side in the Hospital Wing again –

Well.

He didn’t know what he would do, if that happened.

So Renjun did what he could. He snuck into the broom shed to check over the rain-repelling and anti-slip charms on Jaemin’s broom as well as Jeno’s (and their goggles and robes and gloves for good measure), before dragging a grumbling Chenle to go over them too. Chenle may have been a prodigy, but he still hadn’t passed his NEWTs, so Renjun enlisted a red-faced Mark Lee from the Slytherin boys’ dormitory to reinforce the charms as well, ignoring the painful irony of his protests of “helping the enemy”.

If he and Mark weren’t such good friends, Renjun would have cursed the moment Donghyuck stopped teasing Mark for his glasses and Chess Club presidency and started making out with him instead.

Renjun sat between Jaemin and Jeno at breakfast, his lack of appetite largely unnoticed by the two boys shovelling all but the plates the food was served on into their mouths. He followed them wordlessly to the changing rooms, where Jeno became thoroughly distracted by Chenle giving Jisung a very loud and very colourful pep talk.

Jaemin pulled Renjun around the corner into the neighbouring corridor. Renjun worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Hey,” Jaemin said, voice gentle. He started to loop his house scarf around Renjun’s neck, nimble fingers tugging the wool into a knot snug against Renjun’s chin. “I know you’re worried – but don’t be. There are scouts out there, and both they and I know that I’m _good_. So your pretty little head only has to think about one thing – not cheering too loud when one of the ‘Puffs manages to get the Quaffle past Yerim.”

Renjun managed a laugh, though it sounded a bit wet – even to his own ears.

“I just want you to be safe,” he managed. “You and Jeno both. I made him _promise_ –”

“That he’d look out for me,” Jaemin’s smile was so, so wide. “Yeah, I know. So – nothing to worry about, Injunnie.”

“Nothing to worry about,” Renjun repeated, letting himself fall forward to catch Jaemin in a hug. Jaemin’s arms wrapped around Renjun’s waist for the briefest of moments, before a shrill whistle pierced the air.

“I gotta go,” Jaemin said, voice barely above a whisper. If they weren’t standing so close, Renjun might not have heard the words. “See you when I win.”

Expression transformed into his typical brazen grin, Jaemin rushed to the changing rooms, leaving Renjun frozen in place.

“Dammit,” he whispered, unable to form any other word. “Dammit!” he repeated, louder once he realised that he hadn’t been able to wish Jeno luck either.

“Goddamn Na Jaemin,” Renjun muttered as he scurried to where he knew Donghyuck would be waiting by the stands, “monopolising all my bloody time.”

The game started off tame – or as tame as it could be in a torrential downpour and with the combined forces of Donghyuck and Chenle screaming in Renjun’s ears.

Chenle looked a little out of place in the Slytherin box – the blue accents of his robes contrasting the yellow of his scarf and beanie, obviously stolen from someone else’s wardrobe. What Chenle lacked in visual support for the Slytherin team, he certainly made up for in presence, but everyone in his general radius knew that he just wanted Jisung to block as many goals as possible – House loyalties be damned.

It would be hard to spot the Snitch in this kind of weather, everyone knew that. So, when Jeno took off towards the ground, there was no telling whether he was feinting, if he’d actually seen the thing, or if he was just bored of hovering around while everyone else actually played Quidditch.

Either way, Jaemin sprang to action immediately, a flash of green and silver streaking through the rain.

From there, Renjun could hardly keep up. He tried his best to make out the shadow of Jeno’s black robes, swirling through the air as Jaemin followed, step-by-step. Even in the rain, it looked almost effortless. It looked like a dance.

Jeno and Jaemin, Jaemin and Jeno – on opposite teams on the pitch yet so, so obviously on the same wavelength. It was a game to them, in more ways than one. Separate from the game happening around them, detached from scores and commentary and House points. It was pure, unadulterated _fun_ , playing against each other. Renjun didn’t even think it mattered to them, who the winner was.

It didn’t matter to Renjun either – but what could he contribute when he was just watching from the stands?

☆

Renjun let himself be thankful that his house was empty when he slammed his bedroom door behind him, revelling in the way it made Jaemin and Jeno jump, though the former still hadn’t uncrossed his arms. He felt sick with embarrassment, with anger, with a stupid, crushing sadness.

He could hardly take it anymore.

“You said we need to talk,” Renjun said, harsh. “So talk.”

“Whatever it is that’s happening,” Jeno started slowly, “I really don’t think it’s as big of a deal as we think it is.”

“Stop trying to be diplomatic, Jeno,” Jaemin bit out. He turned to Renjun. “What _I_ don’t get, is why you chose today to flip out at me over bloody _Divination_. You’ve known what I think about the whole thing since Third Year, and no offence to Hyuck, but nothing besides an actual prophecy is going to mean anything. Not really.”

“So this is just a misunderstanding–”

“And that’s exactly why I never told you,” Renjun said, cutting Jeno off. “Why I didn’t tell either of you. Fuck, I didn’t tell _anyone_ – people have just _known_. I’m destined for a life of _heartbreak_ , Jaemin. My heart line is broken, split in half. On both palms! And every card reading I’ve had this year – at muggle fairs and not just this one in Diagon Alley but with Professor Song and her friend in Hogsmeade too – reversed lovers stares back at me, every time. Every damn time, I’m told that something’s wrong.

“And isn’t that dumb? Getting upset over some hogwash fortune, right Jaemin? Well _you_ try it, when everywhere I look everyone is finding love. Everyone around me! All of you are finding each other and I’m going to be alone.”

Jeno looked desperately over his shoulder at Jaemin, who Renjun might have noticed was looking guiltier and guiltier were his vision not blinded by treacherous tears.

“Oh, _Renjun_ ,” Jeno said softly, reaching for his hand.

With the touch of Jeno’s fingers against his, the fizz of electricity where their skin made contact, something in Renjun snapped. “ _No_ ,” he choked out, tearing his hand away. His feet moved on their own, stumbling backwards towards his bedroom door.

“You need to _stop_ ,” Renjun said, dragging his fists across his eyes in frustration. “You haven’t got to solve every problem between me and your _boyfriend_ , Jeno. You _can’t_. You’re always apologising for him, saying Jaemin didn’t mean what he said – telling me he wasn’t thinking. It’s not _fair_ , always expecting me to accept whatever you tell me!”

Jeno had never been particularly good at hiding his emotions. His mouth was pulled into a perfect ‘o’, and Renjun had to laugh.

“What?” Renjun laughed without mirth. “You think I didn’t know? That I wouldn’t find out? And _you_ ,” Renjun whirled around to face Jaemin, who had moved to stand. One of his hands was extended and the other stayed fidgeting at his side, like he didn’t know what to do with them. “You really aren’t as good at keeping secrets as you think you are. I know you’re not a fool, Na Jaemin, so stop treating _me_ like one. Stop playing me for a fool. It’s not _fair_.”

Jaemin’s eyes were wide and helpless. He looked desperately over at Jeno.

“I’ve known since _Christmas_ ,” Renjun cried, “and I didn’t care that you didn’t tell me! I didn’t care because you still treated me the same – like I wasn’t some third wheel!” Renjun took a deep breath, pressing his palm against his chest where his heart was kicking like a rabbit’s under his ribs. The pressure did nothing to distract him from the feeling of it breaking.

His tears ran freely down his face, dripping fat droplets down his chin. “It’s too much, now.” he said, “You two, being here all the time – it’s made it so obvious. I can’t do it anymore. I really thought I could – but it _hurts_ and I can’t stop it. You’re going to leave me behind.”

It was cathartic, really, letting himself spill the mess of his feelings out. Renjun held onto that brief feeling of lightness, fighting against the ugly, ferocious guilt that threatened to bubble up his throat.

Jeno was the first to speak. “No,” he said, no longer quiet. Determination laced his voice as he cleared it of guilt, of sadness. “We would never do that, Renjun, we _love_ you.”

Renjun opened his mouth. “Please,” Jeno pleaded, catching Renjun’s shaking hands in his own. “Please listen. I know this is all kinds of messed up right now, but just tell me – what did you smell in the Amortentia?”

Renjun tried to tear his hands away, but Jeno’s grip was stronger. “Are you fucking serious?” He hissed, furious. “Right now?”

“I’ll tell you what I smelled,” Jaemin said, finding his voice. “I smelled pines, for the forest outside the Manor in the winter. The leather of Quidditch gear, too, and something like the oil paints you always bring to Hogwarts, though you only use them twice a term. Do you remember what you said, Injunnie? About smelling something industrial? Try mixing those smells together – I was confused too, until I smelled the Professor’s sample potion during the exam a couple of months ago.”

“And for me – oranges from the holidays my family went on, before everything happened. Leather and oil paints too. I could never forget the smell from when you accidentally sat on a tube in the Common Room, do you remember? God, you got that bright Gryffindor red _everywhere_ –”

“Stop,” Renjun said, voice nothing more than a tremble. “Tell me, tell me clearly, what you’re trying to say. Because I _saw you_ , Jeno, sneaking out of the dorms the same night I saw Jaemin… practically _dishevelled_ in his bed! So tell me what to make of that, before I swear on Merlin’s _grave_ I will hex you both to Hell and back.”

“We’re saying,” Jeno said, and he was smiling, unable to hold back the wave of emotion that swelled inside his chest. “We’re _saying_ , that we were made for each other. All three of us. Jaemin may have looked, um, dishevelled, as you say, because…”

“I was excited, okay?” Jaemin burst out, “Everything was falling into place and we just had to tell _you_ and I just couldn’t help it. I moved to kiss Jeno – on the _cheek_ , Injun! – and I missed and fell off the bloody bed! Nothing more! Seven Hells, Injun, I promise we would have said something, but you were so reserved after that lesson we thought it was best not to. That’s all.”

Renjun deflated, all of his energy leaving him in one giant exhale. “You really did play me for a fool, huh,” he said.

“ _No_ ,” Jaemin said, an echo of Jeno, except this time the brightness had returned to his voice. “You’re no fool, Injunnie. You’re smarter than the best of us. But even the smartest… turn to fools when they’re in love.”

☆

Nights were starting to cool as summer gave way to autumn and August drew to a close. Renjun should have been cold – he just had a jacket on, and he hadn’t thought to bring a blanket up there – but he was warm all the way down to his toes.

A heavy arm was strewn across his waist, fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt, and a leg curled around his calf, trapping it. He brought his hands to his lips, the tangle of fingers so clear to him in the light of the stars that were pinned to the inky fabric of the night sky.

It shouldn’t have been comfortable, lying on the roof of his house, and it had taken a nearly-forgotten First Year charm to get them all up there in the first place. But Jaemin had insisted on it, had seen the astrological map stuck to Renjun’s ceiling and was struck with the romanticism of stargazing with the people he loved.

It seemed fitting that Jaemin was the first to fall asleep. His head was pillowed on Renjun’s arm, breaths warm and even. Renjun could feel the beat of Jaemin’s heart against his own chest, the rhythm strong and soothing. A lullaby, almost.

Behind him, Jeno sighed. His nose tickled the nape of Renjun’s neck, where his hair curled in the humidity. Renjun would have shivered, were he not so tightly sandwiched between the two. A pair of lips pressed just under his ear, barely a kiss, but Renjun still melted further into the warmth of their holds.

It seemed so simple, in the stillness of the night. The universe could have dissolved around them, and yet they wouldn’t have noticed in their circle of endless summer. Renjun was so, so warm. The love that sat like an anchor on his heart was light, now, with knowledge that it was returned.

A misunderstanding, was what Jeno said. If Renjun weren’t moments from sleep, he would have laughed. Jeno was right all along. If only they’d listened to themselves, or perhaps, listened a bit less and thought a bit more, they could have saved themselves the trouble.

But as Renjun knew, even the brightest of wizards could turn into fools at the ineffable hands of love.

**Author's Note:**

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